


This Job

by Seasons_in_DL



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 22:17:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16880268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasons_in_DL/pseuds/Seasons_in_DL
Summary: You muse on your interesting postion.





	This Job

You keep saying it, shaking your head and looking away when people talk about quitting. They have good cause. You stumble home in tears at least three days a week, cut to the quick by some comment from that officious Sakamaki boy. 

Taking a deep breath, pinning on a smile: “I really need this job.”

Boy, indeed; that “boy” must have been born an old man, they whisper, to act the way he does. The eldest, isn’t he? No? Only the second son? Perhaps that’s why he feels the need to push everyone around like that. 

You can’t even complain, really; it’s not what he says, nor even the way he says it. It’s just that he can make the blandest observation in the most scrupulously polite words, and still have it sting you like a blow to the face.

Leaning forward, letting your hair hide your tears. “I really need this job.”

It’s true, in a way; you do need this job. Being a junior lab technician at Ryoutei Academy has its perks: the pay is significantly higher than for similar posts, and the part-time hours leave you plenty of time for your own studies. The prestigious name will look good on future applications; Sakamaki Tougu himself is said to look kindly on former Ryoutei staff who seek work at his companies. (If they put up with his six arrogant brats, the gossip goes, he owes them something…)

But that’s not why you need the job.

The eldest Sakamaki – no, the second eldest – even tutors you. What a mistake that was. You thought he was being kind. Kind. Him. Your test scores are through the roof, from lacklustre 85s and shameful 79s to 96, 97, 98…

Under his tutelage, you feel more ashamed of a 96 than you would have a 25.

Sneaking into the washroom again, hiding in a stall until you’d mastered your emotions: “I really need this job.”

He’s supposed to be an ordinary student but he’s always busy in the lab, conducting some experiment or another. The level is often well above what a high-schooler would normally be able to accomplish. You are frequently required to assist; his work is important to him, and he does not brook any carelessness or error. 

Clutching your hands behind you, digging the point of your pencil through the fabric of your lab coat and into the flesh of your lower back as he hectors you, hoping the pain will distract you from the ache building in your heart: “I really need this job.”

You’re learning a great deal. Much more than you might learn in a similar position elsewhere. But that’s not why you need this job.

You need those long, graceful fingers, delicately positioning a test tube over a flame or jabbing unmercifully at an error in your work. You need the curl of his lip as he spits out some backhanded compliment. You need the harsh smirk he can’t quite hide when he gets to you. You need the way he takes off his glasses and nibbles on the earpiece when he’s thinking. You need the garnet flash of eyes that everyone else describes as “brown”. You need the coldness that radiates off him when he stands too near you; the way he seems to forget to breathe when he’s concentrating. You need that brittle, icy masculine beauty. 

You need Reiji-san.

In your worst nightmares, he knows it.


End file.
